Hidden Thorns
by Bottou-chan
Summary: Neon is sent on a mission to assassinate one of Kurei's enemies.
1. Chapter One

Hidden Thorns

**Hidden Thorns**

**Chapter One**

By Bottou-chan

Author's Note: I decided to portray a more serious Neon than I usually do. ;o) For the first time in a while, she's not going berserk from being around a certain rasta-braided freak. (Yeah, it was tough, not mentioning him. ^_^) But, due to the nature of her work, this fic is rated R. If you skip Ch. 4, it's just PG or PG-13. Comments?

Kurei slid the photo across the desk's surface. "He's the one we're after," he said, tapping the face of one of the men depicted in it. I picked it up and scrutinized it. While I wasn't expecting an 8x10 glossy portrait, this small photo was rather fuzzy and off-kilter. Not as good as some of the others. The photo had obviously been taken on the sly… it looked like our victim was hard enough to corner, let alone photograph. 

I nodded. Ignoring the blur, the face that looked back at me wasn't particularly anything. There was nothing striking about him at all. It was a man of somewhat middle age, of middle height and middle weight, with average features. He didn't look particularly handsome, or cruel, or intelligent, or anything. He was just an ordinary faceless man that you pass on the street without thinking. You can speak to one and not remember your conversation five minutes later; you can watch them melt into a crowd and not give them a second thought. 

They were usually like that. 

"His name?" I asked, scrutinizing the image. 

"Oonishi Eisaku," Kurei answered shortly. "The third son of Oonishi Fujio." 

I nodded. While I wasn't as familiar as some others were with the members of the different crime families in Japan, I at least recognized the name. So that was the face that went with it… how boring. 

"What does he do?" I inquired. If he looked more intelligent, he might have passed for an accountant. 

"He handles the Oonishi interests in gambling, and dabbles a little bit in drugs and prostitution," he replied. "But mostly the casinos… his brothers take care of the other interests." 

I finally committed his face to memory, and pocketed the photo. "Is this a hit against him, personally, or is it in general against the Oonishi family?" 

"Both," came the terse reply. "Him, specifically, because Mori Kouran hasn't been receiving his cut from the casino interests. It was made more than clear that if he didn't receive his percentage from the gambling operations which infringed on our territory, steps would be taken. For the last six months, the flow has dwindled to practically nothing. He has been given one warning, which he disregarded. Now it is time for steps." 

"And his family hasn't encouraged him to cough up?" I asked wryly. Sometimes, people were just stupid. It was easier to pay the money than deal with the trouble. Did they think they were making some sort of statement by refusing to pay? Hardly, unless expressing an interest in a death wish can be counted. 

Kurei made an affirmative noise. "Hn." 

"He looks easy enough," I remarked. No pun intended. "What should I know about him? Quirks? Likes? Dislikes? Allergies?" 

I remembered one nearly-botched assignment early on in my career. My intended target had been severely allergic to my herbal shampoo… it's hard to seduce someone when they're having an adverse reaction to your hair. 

Another object came sliding across the table. This was a dossier, in a manila folder. I opened it up. About five pages of typed commentary were paperclipped to the inside. There were two or three blank pages with newspaper clippings pasted on, with passages highlighted, and about seven or eight additional photographs. Amazingly, these were of even poorer quality than the one I had initially seen. The pick of a bad lot, I thought. 

"I'll get on it," I promised Kurei, rising from my seat. "I'm assuming we'll make the move Friday night?" 

"Hn."


	2. Chapter Two

Hidden Thorns

**Hidden Thorns**

**Chapter Two**

By Bottou-chan

Author's Note: I decided to portray a more serious Neon than I usually do. ;o) For the first time in a while, she's not going berserk from being around a certain rasta-braided freak. (Yeah, it was tough, not mentioning him. ^_^) But, due to the nature of her work, this fic is rated R. If you skip Ch. 4, it's just PG or PG-13. Comments?

I'd visited the casino before, incognito, of course. Just to look it over and get a feel for the lay of the land. It was divided into two parts: the fancy part, and the everybody-else part. If you stayed on the main level, you found yourself blinking under gaudy lights, surrounded by scraggly-haired men and overweight women, feeding slot machines, shooting craps, and playing roulette. The keno machines were never vacant, and the poker tables were pretty popular, too. Music was churned out twenty-four/seven by a rotating shift of DJ's, and women clad in magenta-feathered costumes wriggled around suggestively on the stage. Other women, wearing short, frilly skirts, wandered around periodically with trays of food to ensure that the gamblers would remain until their money ran out, rather than until they got hungry. 

All in all, it was a pretty dismal place. On the surface, it seemed somewhat exciting, but if you rubbed a little deeper, I only found it depressing. The people feeding their paychecks into the machines in the hope of winning back anything they could… the bored dancers who were tired of taking their clothes off for the nth time… the mechanical motions of the waitstaff as they systematically went up and down the rows of machines. Cigarette smoke hung low in the air, there was the distinct smell of body odor emanating from a good number of the patrons, and all in all, it was very unglamorous. 

Upstairs, however, was completely different. When you see the glamorous casinos in those old movies, _that_ was what it was like. A strict dress code was rigorously enforced—I'd seen a man thrown out who wasn't wearing a black tie. The women look glamorous and elegant, like models, whose gowns would _swish_ as they walked. Their hair was inevitably always done up perfectly; there was the glitter of jewelry sparkling under the soft lights (most of it either borrowed, I bet, or not real, but still it was jewelry). Smoking was firmly banned everywhere except for the balcony; the rooms were done up in expensive fabrics and paneled woods, and it would have been impossible to clean the smoke out of the tapestry curtains. 

The party I was to go to was Upstairs. 

It was in the Mermaid Room. Its décor was like something out of a storybook. It had been done up in greens and blues, with pearl and silver accents. One wall wasn't really a wall at all; it was an enormous glass aquarium, full of exotic tropical fish, swimming peacefully in their blue-lit aquatic world. 

I'm sure it would have been a prime mediation device, sitting in solitude with only you, the fish, and the gentle burbling of the giant tank. 

But room itself was loud and cheerful. Elegantly dressed people stood around in small groups, sipping their chardonnay and their white zinfandel. A demurely-clad waitstaff circulated, carrying trays of elaborately-topped crackers, caviar, shrimp, and other small delectables. 

My eyes skimmed the crowd as I hung lightly on Kinjo's arm. I recognized a few faces, but I was never as good at singling out random people as someone like Raiha was. But I did notice one prominent dealer who trafficked mainly in heroin and cocaine; I recognized a socialite who had invested heavily in the running of a male 'escort' service; and there were a few random underlings who I could associate with various local gangs, although I didn't know their names. The bodyguards, on the other hand, were all over the place and easy to spot. A baby couldn't have been oblivious to their presence, despite the fact that they hung around, keeping an eye out for a gesture from their employer, and watching the crowd. 

In other words, the bodyguards were the only people in the room not having fun. 

I spotted my prey right off, but didn't allow my eyes to light on him for too long. He was such an ordinary man, it would have been suspicious for me to have picked him out of the crowd so quickly. Instead, I laughed gaily for no particular reason and said playfully, "Kinjo, you _must_ introduce me to your friends!" 

I have to admit, I was certainly a hit. I usually am. I was at my most charming, as I tend to be on this sort of mission. The disarming smile, the warmth and apparent openness, the charm, the admiration—I flirted with everyone and anyone, men and women. I admired their hair and nails and gushed over their dresses. They, in turn, rather than being cold, were forced by conventional rules to return the favor. Strike up a conversation. Make them feel special. I went above and beyond the customary admiration and, by the time I had moved on to a new clump of people with my tongue-tied date, I left them feeling good about themselves… and good about me, as a consequence. 

In this sort of mission, you never know who you may run into later. It's good to have friends early on in the game. 

The men, on the other hand, were much easier. I would laugh at their jokes and listen to them as though they had the most important things in the world to say. I kept a careful eye on their dates, being certain to never go _too_ far, but I was used to walking that line. 

I was a pro. 

It wasn't long before the party shifted so that _I_ was at its center. My date, Kinjo, stood idly by. He was a minor cog in the organization, and easily overlooked. He was Kurei's plant, who funneled information about the Oonishi family to us, and allowed me my 'in' to their circle. But since he was just a small dog, the bigger wolves felt free to move in on me. 

And that was exactly what I wanted. 

I stood there, nursing a glass of merlot in one hand and gesturing with the other as I attempted to illustrate one of those I-swear-it's-true stories that I had fabricated. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that Eisaku was standing unobtrusively nearby, sipping his own drink and watching me intently. 

I continued with my charade.


	3. Chapter Three

Hidden Thorns

**Hidden Thorns**

**Chapter Three**

By Bottou-chan

Author's Note: I decided to portray a more serious Neon than I usually do. ;o) For the first time in a while, she's not going berserk from being around a certain rasta-braided freak. (Yeah, it was tough, not mentioning him. ^_^) But, due to the nature of her work, this fic is rated R. If you skip Ch. 4, it's just PG or PG-13. Comments?

Later that night, one of the bodyguards slipped a note into my hand. I hardly had to glance at what was written on it… I only needed to verify the name. 

It _was_ from Eisaku. 

A wave of accomplishment engulfed me. I wasn't finished, by any means; rather, I was just beginning. But it was a good start.

About fifteen minutes later, I was in a private room, comfortably ensconced in a plush armchair. I sat perched daintily on the seat's edge, extending my wineglass to be topped off. He replenished my glass, and I looked at the bottle's label, then tasted my drink. I commented on how superior this vintage was compared to what was being served outside in the party. 

"You don't pour fine wine into a river," he remarked easily, pouring himself a glass and then taking a seat next to me. 

"Your friends certainly _are_ capable of drinking a lot," I smiled. 

"Isn't this your sixth glass of the night?" 

"Seventh. And aren't I your friend?" I asked him playfully. "Besides, it's impolite for a host to count like that… it's financially depressing." 

Fortunately for me, my iron stomach is a source of great admiration amongst the Uruha. Lesser mortals may wake up with throbbing hangovers the next day, but I'm immune to such petty trivialities. 

It certainly comes in handy, though. 

Eisaku only laughed. "How true, how true." He gazed thoughtfully at me for a few moments, and I feigned oblivion. I wasn't self-conscious at all; I knew I looked good. I'd spent yesterday at the spa, getting a facial, a full massage, and a manicure and pedicure. My hair had been meticulously styled this afternoon for the event, and I had chosen a slinky black dress which emphasized the proper curves and lines of my body, and slimmed over the ones which needed to be hidden. I looked good, and I knew it. 

Self-confidence and a good fashion sense is important in this sort of mission. 

I decided he had gazed like an idiot for long enough. I turned slightly and caught his eye and regarded him thoughtfully for a few moments. "Perhaps you were once a monk, and you took a vow of silence?" I inquired lightly. "Usually, when one invites a woman for a private party, one makes some attempt to entertain her." I raised my glass slightly. "Although I must repeat, the wine is good." 

Eisaku looked annoyed. He was obviously not used to being reprimanded, no matter how lightly. "Do you know who I am?" he asked, a slight edge to the question. 

I continued with my play of ignorance. "You are Oonishi Eisaku," I said. "You own this casino, and I'm dying to know who did your interior decorating; the Mermaid Room was like a fairy tale. I read 'Monkey' when I was little, and I very nearly expected the Dragon King to be holding his court there."

He laughed. 

"You have excellent taste in wine, and a good head for numbers, I'm sure, to have been such a success in this business. It's a hard road, I understand, but if you make it, you've really made something of yourself. Being in such a situation, I'm sure you're terribly bored of all the flunkies you have, and all the hangers-on, and all the people making threats and asking for favors and wondering if you'd like to buy a table-for-eight at their fundraiser. You must have at least two or three girlfriends stashed around somewhere, although I don't think I've seen them around in the last hour or two." 

They had been cheap little things—dressed up and decked out in finery, but you could still tell. I was a little disappointed in him for having such poor taste in women, but the lack of competition made my job all that much easier. 

Eisaku nodded. "You noticed?" he asked idly, but I could tell he was prying. He was looking for my ulterior motive… 

I gave him a knowing look. "I noticed everyone," I said coolly. "I wouldn't go to parties if I didn't notice people." 

He allowed the subject to drop. Instead, he pulled his chair slightly closer to mine and leaned forward a bit. It was an innocent enough move, but he was definitely encroaching on my personal space. 

I let him. 

"You know why they're gone?" he asked, his voice also dropping in tone, as though about to impart a secret to me… even though we were the only two in the room. 

"Tell me," I replied, amused. 

"I sent them home," Eisaku replied simply. He took a sip from his glass. "You know why?" 

"Tell me." Smiling tolerance still tinged my voice. 

He reached out and rested his hand just above my knee, caressing it briefly. 

"I wanted to spend some time with you. Uninterrupted." 

He was inches away from my face by now, and I could smell the wine on his breath. 

I had to keep from laughing at his clumsy attempt at seduction. Silly man… I'd been through this more times than I cared to think. Instead, I allowed my fingers to rest absently on my collarbone, rubbing back and forth, very gently. His eyes were fixed at my throat, as though mesmerized. 

"You know what?" I asked softly, leaning forward just a tiny bit. The distance between our faces was rapidly diminishing; I knew he could smell an interesting combination of my favorite perfume, the wine I had drunk, and just my natural 'Neon' scent. 

"What?" His voice was barely a whisper. 

"Perhaps you ought to call them back," I murmured, gliding one hand softly across his cheek in a gentle caress. He placed his hand over it, as though to hold it there, but I stood abruptly. 

The words finally registered, and he looked at me in utter bewilderment. 

Obviously, Eisaku wasn't used to being turned down. 

"What do you mean?" he demanded, looking quite hurt by my refusal. 

I scowled at him. I looked beautiful when I was angry, and I knew it. I knew exactly how to get my eyes to flash with anger—just how far to pout the lower lip—just the right posture to hold. 

"What do you think you're doing?" I snapped irately. "I came here with Kinjo, and I don't even know you. Who do you think you are, that you can do such things?" 

Eisaku continued to be bewildered. 

I mentally prodded him… _Come on… you know the proper retort… say it…_

The words finally clicked in his brain. "Kinjo works for me," he said, his voice ominous. "Do you want anything _bad_ to happen to him?" 

Ooooh-kay… Eisaku _was_ moving fast. He skipped a few steps… he was supposed to work his way up to the threats after about five minutes of other arguments. 

But I didn't miss a beat. All the aggression melted from my body, just like that. I looked at him with wide, shocked eyes. "You wouldn't." 

How corny. It just didn't work so well, jumping from one extreme to the other. Idiot… Eisaku needed to learn the proper order of things. 

He seemed to regain his self-assurance. "If I'm happy with Kinjo, Kinjo does well," he said, taking a few steps nearer to me. I backed up, into a wall, and allowed myself to be cornered. "If I have reason to be unhappy with Kinjo, though… he doesn't do so well." 

"But you wouldn't hurt Kinjo because of _me_," I argued, looking searchingly at him with a pitiful face. "You wouldn't do that." 

This was the part where he should say, "No, you're right," and let me go and continue the pursuit later. It would keep my faith in him from being shattered; it would keep him from appearing to be the bad guy; it would be the best thing all the way around. 

Eisaku shrugged indifferently. "Things happen." 

Oooo, good line there. Hardly. How's _that_ supposed to seduce me?! 

I stepped forward, right into his arms. "Please don't do anything bad to Kinjo," I begged him. 

It didn't help that I was nearly a head taller than him, in my heels. 

A sly smile crept across his features. He knew he'd won… It almost made me want to slap him. I have my pride, too, you know, but more often than not, on assignments, it gets subdued. 

He took my hand and led me to a low, plush couch which was against one wall, under a window with burgundy drapes. "Why don't you have a seat, pet, and we can discuss it?" he suggested. 

I allowed myself to be docilely led. Hn. Perhaps this was why I was never very remorseful about the lives I took… hn.


	4. Chapter Four

Hidden Thorns

**Hidden Thorns**

**Chapter Four**

By Bottou-chan

Author's Note: I decided to portray a more serious Neon than I usually do. ;o) For the first time in a while, she's not going berserk from being around a certain rasta-braided freak. (Yeah, it was tough, not mentioning him. ^_^) But, due to the nature of her work, this fic is rated R. If you skip Ch. 4, it's just PG or PG-13. Comments?

He was awkward and clumsy. One of those men who think themselves to be a great lover, but are nothing at all like it. Lacking in charm, lacking in finesse, lacking in skill. He paid no attention to my efforts to guide him; the smaller signals I tried to give him—my breathing, soft murmurs, tiny sounds—were lost utterly upon Eisaku. He was completely wrapped up in himself, and his own sensations… I finally gave up trying to help, and resigned myself to the fact that I wasn't about to get anything out of this evening unless it came from me. 

Huh. Why can't I get the job of seducing and murdering handsome, skillful men? I mentally pouted. I'm sure the male members of the Uruha had a better time at this sort of job. It was beginning to get sickeningly repetitive for me. Quite depressing. 

Was lovemaking such a lost art? 

I ignored Eisaku, not that it mattered. With his lack of panache, he wouldn't notice. My mind was definitely elsewhere by now… I wished he was Kurei. Now, there was someone you could learn from. I knew it was ridiculous for me to ever expect us to have anything deep and meaningful together, but even on a superficial level, he knew exactly what he was doing. We'd only been together a few times, when I had first joined the Uruha; once was to gauge where my talent lay, and the others had been 'supplementary education'. It had been his expert tutelage which made me so effective at what I do. 

I suppressed an irritated snarl, so it only came out as a sort of growl. It apparently delighted Eisaku; but I didn't care. Whatever was happening with him was purely mechanical. Not that he had the talent to notice. 

I felt angry and frustrated; perhaps I always did. With an expert twist, I managed to reverse our positions. I was probably the last good thing he'd experience in life; then again, I would also be the last bad thing he'd experience. 

His eyes grew a little wide. I guessed he wasn't much used to a reversal. But I didn't care. 

Was I such a fool? What was I _doing_? Whatever in the world possessed me to put myself in such a situation? Where did I really think my life was going to end up? I'd probably be lucky to live for five more years… who knows what kind of disease I'd pick up that no madougu would be of use against. 

This stupid line of men. I couldn't even remember the names of my victims from last month. There were three of them… no, four of them. They were faceless, nameless, and devoid of any personality whatsoever. Like Eisaku, they lacked distinguishing characteristics, personality, skill, talent--- _ANYTHING_. They were just useless human beings who had gotten on the wrong side of the Kokom Co., and had to be done away with. They were stupid—idiotic—morons—who—were—full—of—themselves— 

Eisaku's eyes were quite wide by now. He looked a little pained. 

And Kurei! Why was I so bent on being so loyal! What did I get out of return for my loyalty? I got to lay the scum of the earth? What kind of privilege was _that_? I mentally spat the words. He didn't care about me! He didn't care about anyone! He stopped caring after Kurenai's death. He had been going down the wrong path before then, of course, and had heartily enforced his seduce-betray-lie-cheat-and-so-on motto, but any human emotions seemed to disappear after That day. _That_ was when he _really_ seemed to lose his grasp of reality, and sense of what was right. Perhaps what I was doing wasn't technically right, but I was doing it for a good cause. I was doing it because I loved Kurei. But should I throw my life away for someone who would never look at me… never touch me… never treat me like I wished he would? Instead, he sends me off ingratiate myself with some of his more susceptible male enemies? 

Eisaku's face was now all scrunched, as though he was in pain. I recognized the sign, and returned my attention to him. Oddly enough, my anger had given me the boost I had needed, so the evening wasn't a complete waste for myself, either. 

Not anywhere near the best time I'd ever had, but it could have been a lot worse. 

Five minutes later, I had slipped back into my dress and smoothed my hair, which had undergone some dishevelment during the process. He lay there on the couch, still a bit dazed, but enormously pleased. 

I pulled out my Fukyo Waon from my purse, and played a few notes… nothing dangerous, just a rather soothing song. Eisaku raised a lazy eye to survey me. 

"It sounds lovely," he said, sounding quite sleepy. If I actually had feelings for him, hemight've looked like a vulnerable child. Instead, he was just some loathsome creature who was swept up by his own power and didn't think twice about others. 

If he was really thoughtful about others, or not drunk on his own power, he wouldn't have ignored Kurei's threats so readily. 

I took a seat next to him on the couch and cracked the window open slightly. Cool night air seeped into the room, causing the drapes to flutter gently. He moved into a seated position across from me and I handed him his half-full wineglass. 

"You like my song?" I inquired, gazing at him thoughtfully. "When I play it, I always think of someone who's very dear to me." 

"Kinjo?" The word was spoken with the addition of a sound that could best be described as a 'snerk'. Obviously, Eisaku was quite ready to believe that he had just proven himself to be a thousand times better a lover than Kinjo. Not that I would know—I'd never, and I _would_ never, unless Kinjo turned traitor, and then I would—but that was beside the point. His attitude irritated me. What right did such a plain, unremarkable man have to control the kind of wealth and power he had at his disposal? Perhaps I was jealous… I suppose I was… even though my life was good with the Uruha, I still felt some degree of envy towards people who weren't dependent on others. 

"No," I said. I leaned forward and whispered two syllables. "Ku-rei."

Eisaku's mind wasn't working as quickly as usual, and the evening's events hadn't done much to speed it up. He was quite spent and lethargic, and it took him a few moments to place the name. 

He looked at me in alarm. 

"Mori Kurei?" he asked, quite shocked. 

I smiled my best smile for him. "I love him," I repeated. I don't know why I got a kick out of telling my victims that… perhaps they were the only ones I ever was able to tell. It wouldn't do to broadcast such information through the Mansion, and Mori Kouran wouldn't stand for it if he found out. But my victims… they were safely dead and wouldn't tell anyone… They were sometimes my greatest confidantes. 

He made a sudden motion to rise, but I was quicker. I knew he was going for the panic button, wherever it was kept. I maneuvered myself easily into position, and played the fatal notes.


	5. Chapter Five

Hidden Thorns

**Hidden Thorns**

**Chapter Five**

By Bottou-chan

Author's Note: I decided to portray a more serious Neon than I usually do. ;o) For the first time in a while, she's not going berserk from being around a certain rasta-braided freak. (Yeah, it was tough, not mentioning him. ^_^) But, due to the nature of her work, this fic is rated R. If you skip Ch. 4, it's just PG or PG-13. Comments?

The next day, I was in Kurei's study. I handed back the photos of the former Oonishi Eisaku. "Mission completed," I said unemotionally.

Kurei looked at me from behind his mask.. "Hn." 

It was a prod for additional information. 

"It seems that someone had planted a bomb… there was quite a nasty hole blown in the side of the building. The counting-room was directly beneath the room we were in, so the members of the Oonishi gang probably think it was an attempt on the money, rather than on Eisaku's life." 

"I shall send a letter to disillusion them, then," said Kurei, nodding his satisfaction. 

I hesitated. "If you do that, you'll probably lose Kinjo," I said delicately. "It wouldn't be much of a stretch to deduce that both I and Kinjo were responsible." 

"He's served his purpose," shrugged Kurei, slipping the photographs into a folder. 

I opened my mouth as though to speak, and then closed it. It wouldn't do to argue. 

But Kurei knew my feelings, anyways. "You're too emotional, Neon," he said dryly. "It's your shortcoming. You need to distance yourself from what goes on around you, so you are not unduly influenced by others."

I bowed my head. "Yes, sir," I murmured dutifully. I tried to be good at following his example, but there were times I failed. Especially times where he was concerned. 

I wondered how someone as perceptive as Kurei could not know. 

"Crush the weak," he advised. "Use them. Step on them. Kill them. But don't let them become your own weakness." He leaned back in his chair. "That's something my mother told me," he added, almost reflectively. "It's very true. I've never forgotten it." 

I nodded obediently. Was he actually reminiscing in my presence? Or was he merely passing on information? 

Obviously, he wasn't feeling verbose enough to continue the conversation. He gestured for me to leave. As I reached the door, he seemed to remember something. 

"Oh yes—I need you to get with Raiha tonight. There's something I need him to show you." 

My hand froze on the doorknob. I had little doubt as to what kind of instruction I was to expect later on. It gave me a sinking feeling, though… he was so cavalier about it. 

Was I just a weak tool to be used until I was to be thrown away? 

Obviously so. But I loved him… why didn't he… why couldn't I…? 

"Yes, sir," I murmured obediently, and left, shutting the door gently behind me. 

I was a fool.


End file.
